Christy Moore Follow

matty went out on a frozen night
makin for the pub shoulders hunched up tight
head down on the railroad track
and his old cow delia sad lowin him back

he met with a dark and a troubled man
as he passed him by called back at him
hey matty cant you see whats become of me
in this country of the blind

the house i've left is dead to me
to my rhymin and my poetry
all i've got is the beat of the stagger
as i'm headin down the curra line

matty passed on as quick as he could
he could'nt stand such a crooked man sober
all he wanted was the lights of the bar
the nightingale and the wild rove

the fear an ti eyed him steadily
as he handed him a pint of porter
sayin you must have seen the bishops ghost tonight
to put the dry look back in your eye

matty would not be takin in
by their jibin and regalin
he found himself a fresh blown crew
and fell in with their sportin and their balin

as he was goin home in the very same spot
he met with his dark familiar
he seen him comin back down the road
he was bright and sharp and fine

as he passed him by matty threw out his arms
and tried to grab hold of his likeness
in the morning all we found was his frozen corpse
at the butt of the curra line

at the wake they were lashin out
the drops of brandy,the auld fashioned habit
in the church they were lashin out pounds and fivers
so matty would be fine in the old bye and bye